28th July. Hanging out at Rother Valley

Whilst browsing through Sheffield's Westside magazine, a publication for toffs in the ConDem safety zone, I came across an article on places to visit around Sheffield. It seems that I've been missing more than birds at Rother Valley!!


Fun in the bushes.

Local nudey birders Mr and Mrs Morecock commented yesterday that they "love the park particularly it's damp bushy areas" Mrs Morecock said "my husband can't keep away he loves the Great Tits and even saw a red rump there in May" Mr Morecock's claim that he had a young Shag there last autumn is currently the subject of an ongoing police investigation!

21st June. Goodbye Frank

Just read the sad news of the Bard of Timperley my thoughts go out to Little Frank and of course Frank's uncle. Papermache based comedy will never be the same.

RIP Frank

13th June. Little Things Amuse Little Minds

I decided to venture out this evening which, given the torrential rain and general lack of birds, can only be described as madness. On arrival at Orgreave I did consider getting back in the car but insanity got the best of me and I endured a soaking reminiscent of the 2007 floods. However I did manage a nice pactch tick in the form of a 1st summer Little Gull.

Whilst on the subject of birds with the word Little in them. Whilst I'm sure that the sound of a 'singing' Little Shearwater amongst a throng of Manxies could be described as evocative, I'm equally sure that every sucker paying £70 for the privilege of hearing it is a right lying bastard when they say "they went for the experience". Bollocks! You went because you were hoping that some naughty birder might have sneaked on board his 5 billion candle power torch along with Captain Pugwash's sounds of the seabirds volume 1 and that by doing so you could tick it with a clear conscience, after all it wasn't you that broke the law. Remember that Scops Owl in Oxfordshire? How many went along for the experience, just so they could hear it's wondrous call whilst sipping real ale on a balmy summers evening? None, that's right not one of us tick hungry whores went along to listen to that. No instead we followed the guys with the big torches dumping them when their batteries died and finally standing in an orderly queue whilst the bloke with the biggest torch and the freshest batteries flashed the Scops until we were satisfied and the Owls pupils were the size of a mouse's Japs eye! Experience don't make me laugh!!

11th June. BBRC Member in Pie Shame Scandal

I was recently provided with photographic evidence that a well respected member of the BBRC has been dabbling with the fine art of savoury production. Sadly no description was submitted the creator feeling that his reputation and photographic evidence would suffice. Well sir I can tell you now that submission of pies must be received with the relevant documentation i.e filling type, pastry type and where possible a sample of said pie should be provided in an airtight container, preferably with a side order of mushy peas and gravy. An email to the submitter requesting the pies authenticity failed to draw a response, either to its provenance or as to what accompanying condiments were served. On this occasion the BPRC found the lack of description unacceptable, though given that photographic evidence was provided were satisfied that a pie ssp had occurred in the Upperthorpe area of Sheffield during June 2010. Future submitters might take note of the above shoddy work when faced with the possibility of scarce/rare pastry products.

Close examination of the pie reveals the presence of a pair of Pie Birds nestling among the nonspecific pastry. Sonogram analysis recorded at 180 degrees centigrade indicated that these birds were well and truly dead - shame on you Mr G!


A more satisfying record was received from a Mr Hague (formerly of Hoyland, Barnsley) who sent in a near perfect description complete with photos of two Pieminister pies that he recently scoffed in Wiltshire - whilst on a trip to tick the nearby Great Bustards. The two pies in question a Matador and a Mr Porky (that's the pie not Mr Hague) were described well and a feature on their tricky separation will appear somewhere soon.

5th June. The End of Spring (probably)

Whilst the rest of the household weep over a dancing dog I decided to sum up the last two weeks of spring, at least from my point of view. Too many blockers unblocked and no shiny new ticks for my dusty old tick list and that's about it. Highlight eventually was the Old Moor Savi's Warbler which after three attempts, two portions of fish and chips, a Mcdonalds breakfast and a 4am start made it on to my Yorkshire list*. Even Jo was impressed and to her credit never complained about being dragged out of bed at silly o'clock.

It was nice to be acquainted with the old Wath Ings hide even if it was now heavily fortified by barbed wire due to it being some kind of protected birding shrine.

The shrine of Wath Mecca where South Yorkshire birders raised in the 70's/80's go to pray.

Following a disappointing weekend - where was that pant filler from the Russian Steppes? We embarked on a four day trip to Northumberland. We managed to miss a Black Kite almost over the caravan site and a White-billed Diver off Holy Island. But at least we saw some Puffins and a few Arctic Terns

And a Shag is always nice where ever you are (sorry)

Whilst away a couple of blockers fell by the wayside namely Trumpeter Finch and Marmora's Warbler, but the biggest surprise was the five Black-winged Stilts arriving at Titchwell. Surely more than a coincidence - are these relatives in search of answers regarding the mysterious disappearance of their brother Sammy or have they just got pissed off with the tongue tied meanderings of Packham and his bitch Humble and simply made a break from the confines of Pensthorpe? A lasting memory of Sammy below and another vain attempt to get McKinney back on the birding blog scene - come on Tom it's been shit since you went.



*Yorkshire List. For the first time ever I foolishly counted up my Yorkshire list and now the urge to see more has taken control. Though there are a few glaring omissions on there so I might not need to put in too much effort.

23rd May. Mad Dogs and English Scum

A weekend of balmy weather and I was predicting that the big one was just around the corner. Not surprisingly I was wrong, though there was a fair spattering of scarce. The hot weather did nothing for my enthusiasm and after a fruitless early morning wander around Orgreave, for just a Curlew, I decided to retire to the garden.

Sunday started warm and got even warmer, but unless you were trapped in the fridge you probably already knew that! One or two decent birds started to turn up - the best of which was a Broad-billed Sandpiper at Old Moor. By early evening and despite the life draining heat, I was itching to get out. Old Moor seemed the obvious choice, but I really didn't fancy being packed sardine style in a hot hide particularly as personal hygiene is not the highest priority on many birders minds. With that in mind I foolishly opted for another visit to Orgreave. Where I was greeted by this:


I'm sure that when Noel Coward wrote Mad Dogs and English Men he didn't picture pot bellied Chav's, swigging extra strong cider, whilst basking in the heat of the day with the obligatory (mad) Bull Terrier by their side.
Whilst you must forgive their ignorance, it is difficult to believe that even if you pointed out the disturbance they were creating to the breeding birds, that it would actually make a difference.
I did however manage a smile at their expense courtesy of this sign:

Fingers crossed!

Thins were no better at nearby RV with lawns apparently being turned in to some kind of landfill site:

18th May. A Tale of Two Birders

The warmest evening of the year so far had me eager to get out. With a couple of Dotterel and the chance of a male Montagu's Harrier on the moors a change of location was on the cards.
Arriving at the picturesque location of Abney Moor we set out along the path in hope of finding the two Dotterel. The peace and tranquility of this site was just what I needed. Sadly it was soon shattered by a couple of arriving birders who could be heard approaching some five hundred metres away. One of which I managed to identify on call as the 'Mouth From The South'. The 'Mouth' soon caught up with us enquiring loudly if we knew where we were supposed to be looking! He and his sidekick soon overtook us constantly shouting to each other and now stomping around off path. We settled at the side of the path and scanned the surrounding area. Amusing myself with the 'Mouth's' complete lack of field craft we figured that sooner or later he would put them up.

At this point we were joined by another birder who I assumed had arrived with the 'Mouth'. However unlike the aforementioned and his mate he was well behaved, pleasant and quiet, a complete contrast in fact! Thankfully it transpired that he had arrived under his own steam - literally!

Chatting to this birder - who we will now call Gary (because that's his name) - I was fascinated to learn that for the last five months he had been embarking on the mammoth task of visiting every RSPB reserve and Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust site within the UK, whilst carrying out a year list challenge. What's that? Another sad LGRE style listing freak I hear you say? Well no, Gary is attempting this solely on his bike sleeping where ever he can, be it in his tent, reserve hide or the luxury of a friends spare bed. Gary isn't a super fit cyclist clad in shiny lycra, he honestly looks like a birder who's just nipped out for a spot of birding on his bike. This evening he'd cycled from Carsington and stopped off for the Dotterel en-route to the RSPB Saddleworth, I don't know how far that is but I do know that there's a hell of a lot of hills. Despite those hills he still walked around as though like me he'd just got out of the car. I liked Gary he was one of the nicest people that I've come across in a long time and added to this his determination to complete this challenge was amazing - he certainly didn't have those mad staring eyes that I've seen in the average year lister

Please take the time to look at Gary's Blog HERE and HERE and consider sponsoring him in his epic challenge I certainly will be.

Back at the Dotterel Gary, Jo and myself were watching the 'mouth' and his mate scouring the moorland with tact of a sex hungry bull elephant - when suddenly he screamed out that he'd got one of the birds. We wandered up the hill to find nothing except a Wheatear (hmm I wonder). The 'mouth' and his mate continued to engage each other in loud conversation when suddenly his mate shouted out that the birds were in flight - now there's a surprise! This presumed pair continued to gain height until they were just dots in the distance. They clearly had never experienced anything as loud as this before and had decided that they'd had enough.

We left Gary to pitch his tent and headed for the Monty's. A few birders were gathered there and it soon became apparent that it was a no show. After a few minutes we paid a visit to the nearby Strines Inn for two overpriced pints and a couple of gourmet bags of crisps ( I assume they must have been gourmet given that it came to £7.50!). We finished a great evening off with a couple of juv Long-eared Owls and several roding Woodcock.

TWO JUV LONG-EARED OWLS SHOWING WELL IN ALMOST TOTAL DARKNESS AT 6400 ISO (Apparently posting your photos with bold block type is the way forward!!)

17th May. Uncle of the son of Timperley comes to Sheffield

Regular readers of this blog (or Mum and Dad as I like to call them) will be familiar with the comments of Frank Sidebottoms Uncle. Whilst everyone is familiar with the papermache king of light entertainment very little is known about his uncle - in fact we don't even know his name! Following a rare recent press article featuring the very reclusive uncle it was revealed that not only is he the Timperley legends uncle he is in fact somewhat of a local birding stalwart. Sadly the article will not reproduce very well but some facts gleaned from this historic interview appear below.

!!!!!

Suppressing Bastard!

16th May. Chiff Chiff Chiff Chaff....

I woke up with that can't be bothered feeling this morning and for the best part of it I really couldn't. Even a call from Roy about a 'blue-headed type' Wagtail on Orgreave couldn't give me the kick up the arse that I needed. By mid-afternoon I needed to get out birding though, as the sun was now shining, the usual favoured spots would now be swamped with the usual feral scum freshly emerged from their stinking pits! I fancied another spot of twitching and the choices were the Ilkeston Great Reed Warbler or the Potteric Iberian Chiffchaff, neither stunning to look at but both equally vocally interesting. I opted for the latter.

Exciting isn't it?

You can see the yellow supercilium in the top one and the remnants of the yellow washed upper breast above. Quite why it should be in such dreadful plumage in mid-May is beyond me.
The song was far more interesting but you'll just have to take my word for it. But lets face it, if these things didn't sing none of us would have a bloody clue.

15th May. A dull day saved by the Orient

With the RV Red-rumped Swallow still present it seemed a good idea to get in there early doors, particularly as it had regularly been performing on the railings in front of the Watersports most mornings. Of course this morning not only did it not perform on there it did a complete no show. After a couple of hours I decided to cut my losses and head for Treeton/Orgreave. The sky's by now were almost cloudless and it was clear that there would be very little passage so I thought I'd salvage the morning photographing stuff. A Garden Warbler, at Treeton, performed well but the other warblers were keeping well hidden. Orgreave was dull, brightened briefly by a record count of seven Oystercatchers woo hoo!

Seeing as Jo had been working I promised to take her to a food fair at Clumber Park unfortunately it was a bit crap (to say the least) though I managed to purchase a quality pie. Seeing as we were some of the way there I suggested that we might go to Frampton for the Oriental Pratincole. Despite having previously seen two others (Elmley 1988 and Gimmingham 1993) at just seventy miles away this one was just too tempting and my first chance to photograph one - albeit badly!

Frampton Marsh is a quality reserve, much nicer than any of those further along The Wash such as Titchwell. With shit loads of Yellow Wagtail and Corn Buntings like there were in the old days.


A top quality Steak and Kidney pie though at three quid it needed to be. By far the nicest "shop bought" pastry that has passed my lips and lets face it there's been a few!